


The Subtle Art of Understanding

by dinoswhore



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Band AU, Suicide Attempt, i didn't have any understanding of depression im Sorry, sad boy gerard, this was written when i was 13 okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 17:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16538909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinoswhore/pseuds/dinoswhore
Summary: Depression was a bitch and Gerard was its bitch. He was pushed so far by it, that now he was standing on the edge of the concrete, staring down at rushing gray depths of some river.Until.Until a stranger yelled 'Wait!' and Gerard somehow agrees to let this person, Frank, show him how to live again within thirty days.





	The Subtle Art of Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> hey hi. i'm not part of the bandom anymore but i wanted to reupload my fics from the good ol' wattpad days up to ao3. not to step on my own feet but this is not Amazing. but i still hope you enjoy :-)))
> 
> my tumblr is sortasortaspicy come join me

\----

The rain. It was a sensation, when one could truly enjoy it without worrying about the future.

It was pouring down, and the water ran down in rivulets in his hair and soaked into his hoodie.

He was standing on the edge of this concrete monster that people called a bridge, that spanned across a vast expanse of water. A river. The rain made it larger, angrier, churning and lapping against the banks, far below.

The pungent smell of water pollution and saltwater stung his eyes and nose, and for a terrifying moment he almost lost his balance. No. Not yet. He would fall on his own terms.

Gerard sniffed. He had been planning this for months. He'd written out notes, one for his parents, one for Mikey. He hoped they wouldn't cry too much. No one should have to cry for him.

It wasn't their fault. All he wanted was for the void in his chest to go away, to have the weight on his heart to be lifted. The stiffness in his limbs that plagued him all too early in his life.

He wished he could say it hurt. He really badly wanted it too. It was evident from the ruined skin of his wrists and the inside of his thighs that he tried to make it hurt. But it didn't. He was perpetually numb, and he was sick of it.

Gerard took a deep breath, now savoring the salty odor pricking at the roof of his mouth. After all, it was the last thing he'd ever smell.

He shifted uncomfortably, stomach swooping involuntarily upon looking down at the river, at the drop that would await him. It didn't look like a river, really. Too broad, too wide. The water would fill Gerard's every crevice, making him just another dot on the river floor.

Good. He wanted to be forgotten, to become another dark speck in these horrible murky waters. To distract himself, he stared up at the cloudy black skies, the rain catching in his eyelashes, so that he had to squint and eventually look back down again. It was just as well. The clouds were obstructing the stars that night. Or morning. It was 1 AM after all.

He was stalling, he knew. It was time to leave this world behind, to finally feel alive. Ironically, of course. Heh.

But just as he shakily lifted one of his feet up to step off, something happened.

"Wait!" Someone had yelled that behind him. Gerard froze. He was tempted to just ignore this person and go on with his plan. Does killing oneself constitute as a plan?

But something made him stop.

Maybe it was fate, or destiny. Maybe he wanted to be stopped. Or maybe it was that it was one in the fucking morning, and a stranger was willing to waste a part of his life for Gerard when his own family wasn't even aware that he had such feelings. Or lack of them, what-fucking-ever.

He turned around slowly, pivoting on one foot to stare at the person behind him.

He had an arm extended out towards Gerard, in a gesture of helpfulness. His mouth was parted in a concerned frown, and that made Gerard feel bad because no face that pretty should look so sad. And certainly not on account of him.

"Please," he continued, "please, get down from there."

Almost on it own volition, Gerard's head shook. And he could feel a lump in his throats forming. He was crying perhaps because he thought no one cared, yet here some random guy was willing to take time out and save him.

The stranger's frown deepened. And his lips closed. Gerard pinched his own together and looked down at his drenched shoes.

"Give me thirty days. Thirty days for me to prove to you that life is worth living." Gerard was intrigued by this.

"Just, for now, please. Please come back down." Gerard stared into the eyes of the other, watching the shifting greens and browns, tainted with a sorrow for something that did not deserve it.

"And what if I still want to kill myself by the end of thirty days?"

Those were the first words Gerard had said in two days. His voice was cracked and quiet.

"Then I'll leave you be. You can jump if I haven't convinced you," he said this with a reluctance that Gerard didn't want. The stranger bit his lip and his other hand, the one not reaching for Gerard, clenched into a fist. "But please, just let me do this for you."

Should he?

Yes. No.

Finally, slowly, Gerard stepped off the ledge. In spite of the voice screaming at him to go back inside his head, he let himself be guided by this guy across the roofed bridge, where all of a sudden the rain poured down vengefully, and he realized just how fucking cold he was. He shivered, drawing his shoulders up.

He looked to him. Of course he would notice.

"Do you want my jacket?" Gerard automatically shook his head. He didn't want to owe this, no matter how pretty he was. And especially if he couldn't repay him within thirty days. Of course, he kind of already did owe him.

But this stranger kind of ruined his plans so really, he owed him jack shit. Nonetheless, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around Gerard's shoulders. It was kind of cute, because he was much shorter than him and he had to reach up on his toes to place the jacket on him.

Gerard put the jacket on slowly, and he could smell the smell of him, nicotine and the sharp scent of cinnamon. He wondered why he didn't need his jacket, in the cold and rain. And then it hit him that this stranger was sacrificing his own warmth and comfort for Gerard. Fuck.

How the hell was this person so selfless? And for Gerard? What the fuck. His heart clenched.

He looked over at the stranger, seeing the uncovered ink on his body. Gerard shivered again, this time for wondering what else he had underneath his clothes.

"What's your name?"

"Gerard Way," he replied, not willing to, not able to speak louder. He smiled at him, stretching his lip ring, looking like a rebellious angel.

"That's cool. Mine's Frank Iero, at your service." He bumped his shoulder against Gerard's forearm. Gerard tensed at the sudden contact and Frank picked up on that, immediately moving away.

"Sorry," he murmured. They walked for a while in silence, the only noise being the rain pattering around them and the occasional car.

"You can stay at my place tonight. I mean I can't let you go around in wet clothes."

Eventually, the two of them reached Frank's apartment, and when he unlocked the door, Gerard was almost knocked over by a yellow ball of pure fluff.

"Pepper, down!" Frank said to the dog. Sniffing at Gerard's clothes excitedly, it jumped down and greeted Frank.

"Sorry about that," said Frank to Gerard whilst petting the dog, "she loves new people."

Gerard bit his lip to stifle a smile and nodded. "Is there anywhere I can wash up?"

"Yeah, bathroom's down the hall, to the right. I'll get some clothes for you."

"Thanks," Gerard murmured, and because Frank was made of magic or something, he heard and smiled at Gerard.

"No problem," he said. He blushed and walked to the bathroom.

He sighed at his reflection in the mirror. Purple smudges lined the bottom of his eyes, and his damp hair stuck to his temples and cheeks. It wasn't like he expected him to look his best. After all, he had been planning to off himself tonight.

It had been so long since he wanted to look presentable. He spent most of his days like a recluse, lying in bed, feeling the iron weight in his skeleton prevent him from ever wanting to do things.

As promised, Frank brought over clothes- a Misfits sweatshirt and black flannel bottoms. They were a little small, probably because Frank was a little small, but Gerard was alright with it.

Because some fucking stranger cared enough that he was willing to let Gerard wear his clothes and sleep in his apartment. And that was more than Gerard could have ever wanted.

He emerged from the bathroom, wearing more clothes that smelled like Frank and a small smile, despite himself. He heard the owner of these clothes humming Life On Mars by David Bowie and the clinking of ceramics.

Frank was sitting on a barstool by the kitchen counter, holding a cup of something warm, with another cup next to him.

"Hot chocolate?" Gerard's smile grew a little larger, and as the drink warmed his cold hands, he realized this was the first time he'd smiled unabashedly in more than a week.

\---

After the hot drinks, Frank left to get some spare blankets and a pillow for Gerard. While his host was gone, he sighed and let the tiredness overtake him again. Holding it at bay was exhausting, not exactly something he did a lot. He only ever made an effort whenever he was around people, which was a rarity.

"Here you go," Frank said. His voice was hushed, like he was also afraid to break the silence. Unlikely. Gerard was probably the only one that was ever this scared.

Gerard took the blankets from him and bundled them in his arms, the soft scent of whatever detergent that Frank used filling his senses.

"Thanks," he whispered. Frank smiled slightly at him.

"I have work tomorrow so I have to sleep now, but just do whatever, alright?"

Gerard felt that rush of guilt again, almost nonexistent under the crushing numbness, because if Frank hadn't helped him he would be home much quicker, he wouldn't be wet, and Gerard didn't even want his help so why was he giving it?

But he nodded at Frank. "Goodnight."

That night he slept, and dreamed, for the first time in a long time. He dreamed of short boys with wide hazel eyes, and long tattooed fingers stretching out, pulling him out of the pit.

\----

Gerard woke up to the sounds of curtains being pulled back. He lifted his head up groggily, confused when he saw that he was laying on a gray couch that most certainly wasn't his, and two blankets over himself that most certainly were not his.

Then he looked up and remembered Frank and what had happened yesterday night. He watched as Frank pulled open each of the curtains, letting pale light drift in. Gerard shifted and sat up, alerting Frank of his presence.

"Morning!" He smiled. Gerard watched as he stood under a patch of sunlight, shining off his dyed black hair, with dust motes swirling around him.

Like an angel. Gerard smiled, only slightly.

"Good morning, Frank." He said. Frank looked at him in an expression that Gerard would call endearingly. If not for the fact that they had met not twelve hours ago, and that he firmly believed that no one would look at him like that.

"You're not very loud, are you?"

Gerard breathed out sharply through his nose in mirth. "No, not really." He heard a small snuffling noise coming from Frank's bedroom down the hall.

"That's Pepper, she's still asleep," Frank said, replying Gerard's silent question.

"What time is it?"

"Half past eight." That meant he had slept for over six hours, which for Gerard, was a rare feat.

He stood up, holding the blankets around his body with one hand,  
trailing behind him as he sat on the stool by the counter, in a sort of cape. He could hear Frank's quiet laugh at Gerard's antics. Even though this was normally how he spent his time at his own home, he felt a little pride at making Frank laugh.

Frank brought over the plate of crepes he had made minutes earlier, placing it in front of Gerard.

"Voila," he said in a horrible French accent, making Gerard giggle. "Enjoy."

Gerard rolled up the crepe and cut off a piece. It was amazing. Who knew that this tiny punk man could cook so well?

"How is it?" Frank asked as he washed up the pan and his own plate. Gerard hummed, not willing to talk with food in his mouth. He swallowed.

"So good. So, so good." Frank chuckled and Gerard rubbed his face with his hands. Frank sat across from him.

"You can't eat if you're dead," Frank said, making him lift his head. Gerard blushed when he saw Frank watching him with a small smile. He had almost forgotten about the thirty days thing. "You want coffee?"

Gerard nodded. A steaming cup of what was basically the nectar of the gods to him was set down in front of him, sipping it gratefully.

"I have to go to work now, but you can stay as long as you'd like." Frank stood and Gerard followed.

"No, I should go too. I've got a cat that's probably worried sick." Why did I say that? From Frank's smirk he could tell he knew Gerard was lying.

"Wait! Let me give you my number." He produced a sharpie out of nowhere and scribbled down some digits onto Gerard's palm. He made a sound of confusion as to exactly why Frank needed his number.

"So I can stay in touch with you, silly." Frank laughed, like it was obvious that he actually was serious about this stupid goal he had. Gerard just nodded along, confounded that someone like Frank actually wanted to keep talking to him.

"Bye, Frank." He waved slightly at him, smiling and blushing. Frank waved back, as he shut the front door.

It was only when he got back to his own apartment that he realized he was still wearing Frank's clothes.

\----

Gerard was jolted out of his steady horror movie marathon by his phone ringing. He remembered that he had left it there the night where his thought of throwing himself off a bridge were derailed.

He picked up his phone. "Hello?"

"Gerard!" Lindsey Ballato, his best friend. He didn't have many friends though, so did calling her his best friend count?

He didn't know. Self-doubt was an old friend of his.

"Hey Linds," he sighed.

"I'm like, five minutes away from your place, so put on some pants please."

"I am wearing pants," he said, looking down at his bare boxers.

"Yeah. Right." Lindsey scoffed. "Put some on and put Friends on, okay? I have the liquor."

"See you soon." Lindsey hung up. They had been friends ever since they were in college and Gerard had to stop her from climbing on to the roof of a speeding bus while blackout drunk. Emphasis on the tried. She did it and scared the hell out of him.

They had a tradition where they would play some TV show in the background, just drinking and talking and occasionally actually watching.

It was a constant in his bland life, and he was grateful for that.

He pulled up Seinfeld on Netflix and tried to clean up a little. Like, put throws on the couch and Doritos clean up. He opened the door when Lindsey knocked.

"Gee!" She yelled, catching him off-guard with a hug, throwing all her weight, plus a few bottles, onto him. He grunted and pulled her off.

"Hey, Linds." He greeted, twisting his face into a fake smile, that even he knew barely passed. She walked past him and put the alcohol on the table.

"We haven't seen each other in two weeks, and all I get is a sad little 'Hey Linds'?" She pulled back and looked at him with smiling eyes.

"Uh, sorry? What do I say then?"

She laughed. "I don't know, more of an 'Oh Lindsey, thank you for reentering my life" kind of deal."

Gerard laughed genuinely. "Alright, oh Lindsey, thank you for reentering my life." She smiled.

"That's more like it. Now come on, I haven't marathonned Friends in too long."

Once they sat down, Gerard made the mistake of sticking his hand palm-down in front of Lindsey. Of course, she noticed the phone number and immediately berated Gerard for not calling Frank.

"Well, I mean how long has it been since you met him?"

Gerard shrugged. "Like...yesterday night."

Lindsey gasped and hit his arm softly. "Then what are you waiting for? Call the poor guy!"

Gerard shook his head in exasperation. He took his phone, now on its last legs after not charging it for two days, and put in Frank's number from the back of his hand.

"Hello?" He was a little relieved that Frank picked up, that he didn't screen him or decline his call.

"Hi, it's Gerard."

"Oh, Gerard! Hey!" And then he was confused because other than Lindsey, there was no one who was, or could be, excited about talking to him.

"Yeah, um...my friend and I were gonna hang out. You wanna join?" There was silence at the other end of the line and Gerard gnawed on his lip, fingering at his black hair.

"But y-you don't have to come if you don't want to, or you can't, sorry--"

"I'm coming, don't worry," Frank laughed. Gerard just bit his lip again and wondered if Frank only agreed to spare his feelings. He was probably too nice to just say no. Gerard stopped for a second to relay his address to Frank.

"I-I'll see you, then," Gerard said.

"Alright, see you." He hung up and Gerard turned back to Lindsey who was staring at him eagerly. He walked over and poked her arm.

"Well?" She faced him excitedly. He sighed.

"Yeah, he said he'd come."

"Nice. I'm totally gonna judge if he's good enough for you, Gerard."

"I don't need your approval, Linds!" She shrugged.

"I still want to see this guy then."

About half an episode and a tiny bottle of those teeny apple-flavored bottled cocktails in, there was a knock on the door. Gerard pulled himself up painstakingly to open it.

"Hey." And there was Frank, in all his glory, as short as Gerard remembered him and just as pretty, if not more. His hair was glossier and neater, and he had taken the time to wear nicer clothes. He also had his piercings in his lip, his nose, and his ears. It was like he was trying to impress someone, so the latter chalked it up as he had just come from a date or something.

Gerard smiled nervously at him and then he mentally slapped himself.

"Hi Frank, come in," he opened the door wider to reveal Lindsey sitting on the couch and his laptop plugged into the TV.

"Frank, Lindsey, Lindsey, Frank." Lindsey looked at Frank, widening her lined eyes slightly.

"Hey Frank," she said. He returned her greeting and took off his coat, sitting down on the other side of the couch. When he did, Lindsey turned back and stared at Gerard, bugging her eyes out and gesturing violently at Frank. He only rolled his eyes at her and went to sit down in between them.

Frank observed the copious amounts of alcohol Gerard had, and then looked questioningly at the man himself. Gerard knew it wasn't wise to have liquor in a suicide risk's home, but he averted his eyes and pretended not to have seen him. So Frank picked up a bottle as well.

This time, it seemed quieter, as if Lindsey didn't want to butt in on Gerard and Frank's bonding. Rather none of them were speaking, and for once they were mostly focused on the show than usual. Sometime during this, when Gerard and Lindsey were feeling pleasantly buzzed, she put her head on his shoulder, pushing her face into his neck. In turn, he pressed the side of his face against her head.

Frank watched the two of them curiously, and with a darker something in his eyes that Gerard couldn't really label. "Are the two of you...y'know, together?"

Lindsey looked up at Frank and laughed. "Oh god no. We've known each other way too long for that and Gerard here is about as straight as an overcooked piece of spaghetti."

Gerard blushed, thankful for turning off the lights earlier. But Frank only smirked at him when he looked over. It seemed that every time something about Gerard inadvertently slipped out, he'd be holding his breath, waiting and dreading for a negative reaction from Frank. So far, he'd never gotten one.

The three of them ended up watching all the way through the season, the smell of Lindsey's hair on his right and Frank's permeating warmth on his left. Gerard laughed at all the parts he was supposed to laugh and he pretended not to notice when Frank's glances lingered on him.

It was at maybe 12:30 in the morning when Gerard looked at his phone and realized just how late it was. Lindsey was already asleep, so Gerard just laid her head down on the couch while he went to say goodbye to Frank. He had put on his jacket and Gerard was conflicted because Frank's shoulders looked really good in it, but he couldn't see his tattoos.

Gerard picked at the side of his thumb quietly, starting when Frank turned to face him and smiled. "I'm pretty sure they don't have Friends in heaven."

Gerard smiled and looked down, covering the bottom of his face with one hand as he laughed. "You already gave me one today," he reminded.

Frank merely shrugged. "It's technically the next day, and besides," he smirked at Gerard, "you deserve a lot of reasons to live."

Gerard blushed again and watched Frank shyly. Cocky fucker. "Thanks," he whispered.

"Thank you too, y'know, for having me over."

Gerard opened the door. "It was no trouble."

Frank walked out the doorway, turning back to face Gerard a little while longer. Gerard leaned against the open doorway, watching Frank fiddle with his car keys.

"Maybe we can do something like this again?"

Gerard grinned, "I'd like that." He stood straight, getting up from the doorway and brushed his hair out of his face. They stood in a silence, one that would normally have Gerard wishing he was elsewhere, but with Frank it was only peaceful, like they were taking pleasure in each other's company.

And Frank's eyes were nice to stare at. They were a constant reminder of the man who took him away from the edge. Maybe Gerard resented him for that, but it was hard to be angry in the face of such beauty.

"Well, bye," Frank said finally. Gerard reluctantly waved back and shut the door. He heard a shifting behind him.

"Is he gone?" Lindsey sat up suddenly, brushing her hair away from her face. Gerard jumped and then sighed in exasperation.

"Were you just pretending to be asleep?"

Lindsey shrugged and looked away. "Well...yeah," she said with surprising bluntness. Gerard rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," he muttered when Lindsey smiled at him knowingly.

"What?" She threw her hands up. "He was sweet and really hot. You should spend more time with him, but without me." She winked.

Gerard couldn't help himself. He laughed, because things seemed to be looking up.

\----

It had been eight days of Frank's ridiculous solution to Gerard's little problem when it occurred to the latter that he should write them down. So he did, and he stood in front of his fridge, staring at the paltry list.

1\. good food  
2\. Friends  
3\. Smashing Pumpkins  
4\. dogs  
5\. Batman  
6\. the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy  
7\. coffee  
8\. drawing  
9.

It was a strange thing, but Gerard might want to live life, more than just half heartedly waiting for death. It wasn't as if he was healed, but he was walking down that path. and that was more than he'd ever expected. He stared at the blank eight, anticipating it almost impatiently.

Because Frank made him laugh, made him happy, so much. And every time he did, he reveled in the way Frank's own face lit up, like he was proud that he made Gerard laugh.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by his phone ringing violently on the kitchen counter. It was Frank calling. Gerard chuckled at the picture he had for his contact, that Frank had taken himself when Gerard had fallen asleep. He picked up his phone.

"Gerard!"

Gerard pulled back the phone and winced. Frank was way too excited. "Uh, hey Frank."

"Get ready, I'm picking you up in like, forty five minutes."

"What?"

"Well I would come earlier, but I gotta get something first."

Gerard was already walking to the bathroom. He figured he should try to dress up, if Frank was actually giving him time to get ready instead of showing up spontaneously like always.

"Uh, sure? What am I supposed to get ready for?"

Frank seemed to be at a loss of words here. "It's...it's a surprise. See you at seven!"

And then all Gerard heard was the dial tone. He put his phone down and focused on getting ready. His eye caught a box he had by the sink. In it was something that he didn't do earlier, with the excuse that he didn't have time.

Well, he had forty five minutes, and he wanted to look good. Why not?

\----

Forty three minutes later, Gerard was sitting on the couch, dressed in charcoal skinny jeans and a blue and white shirt that made up for its absence of black with the way it slimmed his torso and accentuated his shoulders. The towel over said shoulders was stained red from his freshly-dyed hair. He ran his hand through it proudly. Gerard hoped frank would like it. It had been a while since he had gotten ready for an actual event like this. It was almost like getting ready for a date. Except Frank didn't like him like that and Gerard was too nervous, too self-loathing, to make Frank like him.

He twisted the braided ropes in his hand, wondering if Frank would appreciate what he made him.

A knock on the door sounded, Gerard jumping up immediately to get it. He shoved the things in his hands into his pocket. When he opened the door, Frank had his hand halfway from moving down to his side, mouth frozen as well in the act of taking in Gerard's new appearance.

"Hi Frank," Gerard said, smiling shyly, blushing when he kept staring at his hair.

"H-hey, Gerard," Frank stuttered out. "You ready to go?"

Gerard nodded, and they set off.

\----

"How was your day, Frank?"

Frank turned to face him. "Aren't you gonna ask where we're going?"

Gerard shrugged. "Alright, where are we going?"

Frank smiled to himself. "It's a secret." Gerard laughed quietly.

"But you just told me to ask you!"

Frank frowned. "I did, didn't I?" He waved it off. "Well, you aren't supposed to know."

Gerard grinned, and then he shivered, even thought he was already wearing a leather jacket. Frank frowned.

"Do you want my jacket?"

He was hit by a sudden wave of deja vu, and when he looked over he knew Frank could tell too. But this time, he shook his head. "No, I spent way too much time getting ready."

Frank ignored him and started taking off his jacket.

"Frank, no, you'll ruin my look." He ducked away when he tried to drape his jacket on his shoulders.

"It doesn't matter!" Frank was annoyingly persistent, running after Gerard.

"Hey, it does, and anyway you brought a red jacket," he gestured to his head, "it'll clash with my hair."

"No come on, you're cold," Frank said, still not giving up. At this point he had wrapped his arms around Gerard's shoulders, trying to pull him down. His warm breath rushed over Gerard from behind, painfully close to his face. He was suddenly aware that Frank had his whole body pressed against his, but the other man didn't seem to care.

"Your eighth reason should be people who care enough to lend you their jackets, Gerard," Frank murmured, and then he cleared his throat when he realized just how tense the other was. Gerard shifted away slightly, and Frank, getting the message, pulled away and they continued walking. A sudden rush of embarrassment and dread rushed over him, making him look down at his shoes in slight shame.

If he had been looking up, he would've seen Frank watching him, biting his lip and beating himself up for making someone so sad and beautiful even sadder.

"We're almost there," Frank said out of nowhere. Gerard looked up to see that they were walking towards a road, lined with trees that still had fairy lights thrown in them. They shone yellow, casting the narrow road and the pavements in a dim glow. There were different restaurants and small dinky shops on either side of it, and you could hear the mixed din of the music and the lively chatter of the people walking around. Gerard took in all of this in wonderment, thinking how could he have lived in Jersey almost all his life without knowing about this street?

"Are you suitably surprised?" Franks voice sounded behind him, making him start. He sounded confident, but Gerard could hear a slight waver in his questioning tone that made him smile a little, because maybe Frank was actually nervous about this as well. He turned to face Frank and the hopeful expression on his face.

"I love it Frank," Gerard grinned. A sudden rush of vitality made him jump into the air, with joy maybe, and he grabbed onto Frank's hand and dragged him along. "Come on!"

Frank only laughed and allowed himself to be pulled behind to Gerard's wishes.

"How did you even find this place? I live in walking distance of it, and I didn't even know of its existence until now."

Frank smirked. "Some of us actually go outside, Gee." Gerard blushed at the use of the nickname, making Frank grin wider.

"Whatever," he muttered, turning away when he heard Frank snort. "Let's go eat first."

Frank held up a finger to stop Gerard. "I know just the place. You mentioned you liked coffee, you know, a few hundred times so..."

Gerard looked in the direction where he was pointing, and then burst out laughing when he saw a Starbucks that was closed. Frank grinned proudly, like it was a personal achievement to make Gerard smile.

Maybe it was, because Lord knew Gerard hadn't genuinely smiled for four months, and then Frank came along. Now he smiled everyday, and he could almost forget about the chain wrapped around his ankle. It was long enough now that he was standing up, exploring and slowly becoming less and less aware of it.

But that didn't mean it would fade away magically. There would be a moment where the chain wouldn't have anymore give, and it would be stretched tight, making Gerard fall.

Gerard tried not to think about that.

"Alright, fine. That's not where we're going. We're going there," he pointed again at a restaurant with a sign reading Pistachio. "Great food," Frank remarked.

Gerard only shrugged and picked at his fingernail, because suddenly all he could think about was how this euphoria was only temporary and that he would have to return to living in numbness, flailing around in the dark. He couldn't bear it. He was sure he wouldn't be able to, and yet now it seemed it was hurtling towards him frighteningly quickly. It was so unfair. A spark of resentment was even felt towards Frank, because Frank was so happy and he didn't have to deal with matters like Gerard had.

And suddenly his breathing grew harsher, and his vision blurred and he saw spots. It took him a moment to realize that the wetness on his face were tears, and then another moment to realize how fucking stupid he was to not have realized that sooner. He had his hands clasped tightly in his hair, and he had backed up until the scraping sound of a chair stopped him.

"Woah, hey, Gerard," Frank's voice penetrated his consciousness. Gerard only sunk down lower, trying in vain to steady his breathing. "Gerard?"

Two hands covered both of his, threading slowly through his hair, and he stopped breathing altogether. Just as suddenly, they disappeared.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry Gerard. I shouldn't have touched you, I read somewhere that that was bad--" Frank wrung his hands together in frustration. "Alright. Gee? Gerard, listen to my voice."

Gerard's breathing quieted enough for him to hear Frank.

"Put your hand on my shoulder and breath when I breathe, okay?"

Gerard tried his best to follow Frank's breaths, cheeks heating up when he realized that people must be staring. He leaned over and pressed his forehead to Frank's chest, ignoring the stilling of his movements and instead focusing on breathing correctly.

"There you go," Frank murmured after a while. "You okay now?"

Gerard thought for a while, before deciding that he really was okay. His breathing had slowed down and Frank's presence made him feel warm and comforted, with his arms wrapped around him like a cover from the rest of the world. The sudden rush of guilt for bothering Frank with that pulled him under and made him push Frank away reluctantly.

Gerard didn't see the hurt that passed over Frank's face for a second or so, and when he turned back Frank only looked concerned.

"Come on," Frank said, lifting himself up from where they were both sitting inexplicably on the lane, offering a hand to help Gerard up. He took it and wiped his eyes with the palm of the other.

"S-sorry," Gerard mumbled. Frank smiled.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Gerard."

Gerard bit his lip. Frank ran a hand through his hair. "Look, is there anything I can do to calm you down?"

He hesitated before asking, "C-can we go somewhere else?"

Gerard held his breath in a little bit of terror, waiting for an angry tirade about how Frank had planned this out, or even worse, him being mad at him quietly. But then he smiled reassuringly at Gerard, and all his worries dissipated with the stretch of his pink lips around his piercing.

"Sure," Frank said, "you're lucky I always have a plan B."

Gerard smiled back. "And will I know what that plan is?" His voice came out slightly shaky, but Frank had made his panic attack seem so...inconsequential in such a short time, which was in itself a huge achievement.

"Well do you want to ruin the surprise?" Frank hit him lightly on his bicep and Gerard just laughed quietly. Frank was staring at him again, something he did regularly whenever Gerard laughed around him. This time it was different--his eyes were roving around Gerard's face strangely, landing on his lips in a way that made his cheeks heat up and his stomach tingle. Self-consciously, he pulled a lock of his brightly-colored hair in front of his face. He handed a look at Frank later, to find him looking at him in a reverent way that made Gerard look away immediately.

For that split second that he looked away, he heard a thump and a groan coming from his right. He looked over to see Frank, sprawled on the floor in all his glory, and a lamppost in his path.

Gerard laughed and then immediately felt bad for doing so. He shut his mouth and then bent down to look at Frank, offering a hand to help him up. The other smiled and pulled himself up. He rubbed his forehead with a rueful grin and Gerard was struck with a fitting metaphor.

Because while Frank was always the one to patch Gerard up, to help him stand again right from the very beginning; maybe it was happening in the other direction as well.

\----

Gerard made an embarrassing squealing sound when he realized exactly where they were going.

"You brought me to the fair?" He asked, almost yelling. He stared in wonder at the spinning wheel of light. Frank laughed.

"Yeah well, it's hard to be sad when you're suspended in the air and surrounded by twinkle lights," he said matter-of-factly. Gerard just grabbed his hand and dragged him along, not knowing that the other's insides had heated up starting from the hand that was clasped in the object of his affection's.

They, or rather Frank bought cotton candy and french fries to eat in the Ferris wheel. He said it was an okay dinner, which made Gerard giggle, which in turn made Frank thankful that it was dark out so he couldn't see his pink cheeks.

And as much as Frank didn't want to admit it, in a short time, this scarlet-headed, dorky, depressed, beautiful person already had him wrapped around his finger. Even if he tried he wouldn't have been able to stop looking at Gerard, admiring just how the myriad tiny lights cast his soft face in an unearthly glow, the way it seemed to take away the shadows underneath his eyes.

And then they were stepping into the little carriage thing, and suddenly they were ascending into the skies. Gerard had completely forgotten about the food, the world, even Frank, as he pressed his nose against the cool glass and looked down. He laughed wholesomely, a sound that brought tiny butterflies to Frank's stomach.

"Everything seems so small from up here," Gerard breathed. Frank barely noticed because now all he could think was this is it and do it now it's the perfect timing. And just maybe he would say yes and Frank could be deliriously happy.

"Gerard I need to tell you som--"

"Thank you."

Frank was cut off by Gerard uttering these words so quietly, still staring out over New Jersey.

"You-you're one of my best friends, Frank," he shifted and sat down properly in his seat so that they were pressed together. "No one else except Lindsey cares this much t-to spend so much time with me. You never have to stay but you still do. And I know this is really stupid but I just..."

He shifted and pulled out two braided leather ropes, handing one of them to Frank. He bit his lip and felt his palms go sweaty. "Th-they're friendship bracelets." He hesitated when Frank stayed quiet, "Actually, this was a stupid idea. S-sorry."

Frank took Gerard's braided leather band and quietly and wrapped it around his wrist quietly. His fingers brushing against Gerard's skin left goosebumps behind and he made himself believe that it was the cold.

"I love it," Frank said. He smiled up at Gerard, and he couldn't tell the quietude that was spread on Frank's face, thinking about how good it could have been if Gerard wanted more than friends. He wondered if Gerard had caught on that he had planned this to be a date- probably not, seeing that this had happened.

But Frank cared too much for him to just leave like that, and it warmed his heart that Gee felt so comfortable around his company. He jumped slightly when Gerard lunged over across to Frank's side of the carriage and enveloped him in a warm hug, making them sway slightly.

Gerard, well Gerard should have been scared, he should have been sad and mopey and generally ruining everyone's day. But all there was was an all-consuming happiness that made him bounce on the balls of his feet, just waiting to carpe the fucking diem. Frank just left his mouth drifting open like an idiot and hugged the other back after a while, breathing in the chemical smell of his hair dye and that flowery shampoo he used.

They let go eventually, Gerard blushing and retreating to his side of the carriage.

"Sorry," he muttered. Frank smiled leisurely but with confusion.

"It's no trouble."

Gerard scratched at his jeans. "No, I mean for ruining your plans for tonight. You--I made you skip dinner and you had that all planned out. And I'm really sorry a-about earlier. I don't know what happened," he sighed through his nose. "I'm always like this, which is why I don't go out too much I guess."

Frank stayed quiet, watching Gerard with a silent smile, tracking the movements of his hands or his face with his eyes, cataloging everything. He wanted to know everything about this man, he wanted to make him as bright and happy as the color of his hair, and mostly he just wanted Gerard. Frank never thought it was possible to fall in love within the span of nearly nine days now--in fact he had been skeptical about the whole idea of love in the first place. Yet there was no denying what it was that he felt for Gerard.

And Gerard, he was just perplexed at the look on Frank's face. He was watching him with sleepy glittering eyes that seemed to tease him with a secret he didn't know, and his mouth curved at him in a way that, if he didn't know better, would have seemed flirtatious.

He smiled nervously back at him, and they were silhouetted against the lights of the Ferris wheel. It would have been the perfect time to kiss, except neither knew if the other wanted the same, except that they both did.

"You were right," Gerard said spontaneously. Frank hummed questioningly. "About never being sad on a Ferris wheel. I'm not sad." He laughed.

The other grinned wider. "Then your day nine should be Ferris wheels," Frank murmured.

"Yeah," Gerard whispered. But little did Frank know, he had also added three other things to his list--red jackets, friendship bracelets, and sparkling eyes.

\----

9\. Ferris wheels  
10\. Stephen King  
11\. the smell of rain  
12\. Nutella  
13.

Gerard was at home. Drunk out of his mind. He was kissing some guy, maybe he was attractive? Maybe. He couldn't remember. But he did recall tapping out a message on his phone to somebody, but for the life of him he couldn't remember who. Someone...important. Mikey, maybe?

He moaned automatically when the stranger ground his hips down onto him, breaking away from a fervent kiss. He missed the way alcohol numbed his inhibitions and let him do things like this.

Lately he had been needing it. Frank had been acting strangely recently--sneaking glances whenever he thought he wasn't looking, tensing up when Gerard lay his head onto his shoulder, or kissing his forehead and then immediately shying away.

Gerard was sick of questioning which one of them would bear the fault for sort of souring their friendship like this. The bar was a cheap and efficient way of doing so, so he went and ordered a whiskey or two (or a few more), picked up a pretty-looking guy and brought him home. There was no emotion in what they did, it was just raw sexual frustration being let out. Hell, Gerard could still feel the complete numbness, the only sensations he felt were empty shots of pleasure from his groin.

He could vaguely hear his front door opening and closing, and muffled footsteps coming closer and closer. But Gerard only ignored it, arching his back absentmindedly as the stranger bit his collarbone, making him let out a long keening noise.

The bedroom door slammed open and Gerard's unknown sexual partner looked up. The other, however, thought it alright to press rough hickeys into the stranger's neck instead of properly looking.

"Gerard?" Frank's trembling voice reached his eardrums, clicking quite a few puzzle pieces into place and instilling dread along with them.

He stuck his head out from under the guy on top of him to look at Frank wrapped up haphazardly in a hoodie and grey sweatpants.

"Frank? Frank," his voice suddenly became dry, as the shorter guy's frown grew darker and darker until he was scowling furiously. Gerard cowered. "I-"

"Save it, Gee," Frank spat the nickname at him almost venomously. "I thought you actually cared about me too. That this wasn't just one-sided."

Frank shook his head. "I guess I was wrong."

Gerard scrambled out from under the warm body clumsily, realizing that he had passed out and tried in vain to move his flailing limbs out of the way.

"Wait Fr--"

He was cut off by the sound of a sort slamming and then another door.

Gerard ended up puking on the stranger that night.

\----

Three days. Three days without talking to Frank. Gerard didn't even know he could miss someone so dearly, so quickly. He picked up his phone again, tapping redial.

\----

"Frank? It's um...its Gerard. We-we haven't spoken in a while. I guess I understand why. I understand if you didn't want me to call. I wouldn't want me to call. Sorry. I just called to...to ask you to call back."

\----

"Hey Frank. It's Gerard. Again. ...sorry.

"I still have your clothes you know, from when we first met. Just...come pick them up if you want to. I-I guess I guess I understand if you never want to see me again. I don't know why you wanted to see me in the first place. I'll leave it outside my door, I live in a pretty good neighborhood. I'll see you. Or I won't. Bye."

\----

True to his word, Gerard washed and folded Frank's clothes into a neat pile, holding the Misfits sweatshirt close to his face to take in what he could of him, his pretty smell. He was pathetic, he knew, the way he had resorted to smelling Frank's clothes for some semblance of him.

It was five days now. Gerard liked to pretend he wasn't counting.

He didn't know why he put so much effort in making the clothes look nice. It wasn't like Frank was gonna come in and congratulate Gerard for his folding technique. He just set it outside on a stool and left a note saying that he missed him.

Nothing happened of course. Gerard sat on the ground next to his door, ear pressed against it, listening for when Frank would come. Part of him wished he wouldn't do, that he wouldn't keep him waiting.

He did though. He could see Frank's sharpied Vans sneakers through the crack between the wall and the door.

Gerard held his breath as Frank grabbed the clothes, and then the note. He almost forgot to breathe quietly as Frank stood reading it.

And then Gerard nearly lost control completely as he sighed tiredly and the note was left on the floor, crumpled and torn up like Gerard's heart. He thumped his head on the white painted wood, watching his tears darkening the red carpet of his doorway.

\----

"I dyed my hair black again. Sorry. I know you liked the red. I just mess up everything, don't I? I don't know, it just seemed too bright for me. Everything's too bright. At the risk of sounding like an emo teenager, I want to be the darkness. Haha. Sorry for bothering you with another voice message. They'll stop someday. I'll stop someday."

Gerard sighed. "Sorry."

\----

"Hey. I was just wondering, do you still have the friendship bracelet I made you?"

Gerard pressed his thumb against his own, which was wrapped around his ankle for whatever reason. "Just so you know, I wouldn't blame you if you don't. I-I'm really sorry, Frank," he whispered, breath hitching. "I just want the chance to apologize to your face so just please...c-call me back."

\----

It was eight days now. And Gerard had forgotten just why he felt like living again.

He hated it. All of it. He hated Frank for not calling back. But he hated himself more for fucking up so badly. For not knowing how to fix it. For being too goddamn scared to just man up and go to Frank's apartment. His breathing was shaky and his eyes blurred with wetness again, which he angrily wiped away. Gerard was done.

This was it.

He pulled out his phone and called Frank's number, yet again. He pressed his fingers against his mouth for a moment, keeping himself from borderline sobbing. It was worse this time. It was worse than the ripping numbness that plagued him last time. Before Frank.

After recording the message, he pulled out his bedside drawer ferociously and picked up the bottle of Valium with shaky fingers. The bottle of tequila was in his other, and he opened both of them. It wasn't his preferred method, but it would do. They disappeared methodically, dropping one by one down his throat. He chugged the liquor down between each pill and by the time he was done, both bottles were suspiciously lighter, both were empty. He felt woozy. There was no more sadness. Soon there would be no more him. And slowly, ever so slowly, it was happening. The rope that connected him to consciousness and life gave out, and he was floating, falling gently like a dropped piece of paper. The pressure on his chest was too much and suddenly there was nothing, nowhere, at all.

\----

Frank sighed when he unlocked his phone to see another new voice message from Gerard. He was forcing himself to tough through each of his messages as soon as he left them, each pain-filled message that left a twinge in his heart and a little more guilt weighing him down.

He didn't mean to do that to him. He didn't know what he meant, didn't know what the red spots in his eyes and indescribable anger when he saw Gerard with that man meant. All he knew was that he wanted it to stop or maybe he wanted to be the one feeling up Gerard, but when he walked away his legs were shaking and he had to steady his breathing leaning on the brick wall.

And then he had ran, ran all the way to his own apartment so that he could distract himself from the sting in his eyes and his chest with his aching limbs and pounding heart. It was strange, the way he felt, the way he wanted never to see Gerard again, but simultaneously he wanted to pin him against the wall and ravish him until he didn't know what was what.

But he could feel the invisible rope between the two of them tightening, shrinking, urging him to run back and be with him again. Frank couldn't figure out for the life of him why he wasn't listening, just that the time he went to pick up his clothes, his stomach turning when he heard Gerard's shaky breaths on the other side of the door.

As always, he opened the voicemail almost as soon as he saw it show up and held it up to his ear.

"If I knew that all you would do was break me, then I wish you'd never saved me, Frank."

Frank bit his lip again, steadying himself for another onslaught of guilt and anger.

"I wish...I wish we could go back to the night on the bridge and I wish you let me jump. You made me feel alive but you only seem cruel now, b-because you tore it right out of my life." He couldn't stop himself as a tear slipped out of his now closed eyelids.

"It would've been better if we never met, because then you wouldn't have felt the need to do this for me, or to do this to me. I guess I took a lot of time out of your life."

All he wanted was to scream you weren't a waste of my time I would spend every second of my life with you I love you.

"I'm sorry, Frank. I'm sorry you wasted your time with a lost cause, because that's what I am. I've felt like this since I dropped out of art school. It's been far too long and you never would have healed me. I'm sorry you never realized I can't be pulled back. I'm sorry I never told you. So this is a goodbye, and a thank you. For showing me what it was like to live again. Just d-don't call back."

Frank lowered his phone, wiping his eyes and setting it down on his dining table.

Despite that, Gerard would be fine. Right?

But then the meaning of his goodbye and thank you dawned on Frank and suddenly he was scrambling out of the chair and shrugging on his coat, slamming the door and running the same path again. This time however, he was running back, instead of away.

\----

Frank burst down the bend down to the slightly open front door of Gerard's apartment, which in itself worried him. Once he found the bedroom, he pushed the door open, looking around wildly and then.

And then he spotted a gray-clad body, lying with black lashes fanned on his cheeks, surrounded by white sheets.

"Oh god," Frank whispered. He strode over to the bed, seeing the open bottles of alcohol and painkillers.

No.

No.

He knelt down heavily next to Gerard's prone body and lifted it upright, sticking his fingers urgently down his throat in a desperate attempt to get him to throw up. It barely worked and the only thing that came up was a sickly smelling clear liquid.

Frank choked back a sob, picking up his phone and shakily dialing 911 and rattling out the details in between panicked breaths and cries.

And in the end, he was just cradling Gerard's limp body in his arms and crying into his now-black hair, whimpering a constant chorus of please be okay I'm so sorry.

\----

Gerard woke up to the slightly uncomfortable sensation of someone breathing on his hand. His first thought was that if this was the afterlife--darkness and weird exhaling noises on his appendages, then everything was false advertising. But then it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't dead.

And that was the worst thing of all. He felt tears pricking the back of his closed eyelids again, thinking to himself how could I have failed how did I even fail killing myself. I'm so fucking stupid.

But when he peeled open his eyes and looked down, he realized. Frank, who was lying facedown on the edge of his cot, head halfway on his hand. He didn't know if the pang in his chest was happiness or hate, but either way he frowned.

Why did Frank save him? Didn't he hate Gerard?

He just shook his head and withdrew his hand, jostling Frank's head and waking him up with a snort. He shot back upwards into his chair, looking around in bewilderment before focusing on the figure watching him in the hospital bed.

"GGerard!" Frank stared at him with wide eyes full of relief and surprise. "You're awake."

And Frank's mind just kept tumbling and tumbling, because he hadn't left the hospital since Gerard was admitted. Nearly the whole day that Gerard was unconscious, he spent it pacing in the waiting room, or sitting nervously by Gerard's side, trying to fight the urge to smooth his hair out of his sleeping face or kiss his hand.

And it just kept falling, because now he was looking at Frank with such hurt and anger and it hurt.

"Why are you here, Frank?" Gerard's voice shook, but he tried his best to sound affirmative. "You left."

He could feel the ache in his throat from holding back tears. But it didn't matter, because there was a weird sort of sick satisfaction at the guilt present on Frank's face. A small part of Gerard was content and all he could think was how he deserved it.

"Gee," Frank whispered.

"No!" Gerard shook his head. "Don't 'gee' me. You hurt me, Frank." Balling his hands into fists, he fiddled with one of the many cords protruding from his body like extra limbs to distract himself from Frank's head bowing in shame. "What...what d-did I mean to you? Do you even care about me?"

He chose to look at Frank at that moment, and guilt stabbed into him above the schadenfreude, for Frank had tears in his eyes and looking up at Gerard in a way that made him look like a kicked puppy.

A knock sounded at the door, and Gerard was honestly relieved because it hurt and confused him to see Frank. He called for whoever it was to come in, and a nervous-faced nurse stepped in, holding a clipboard, eyes darting around unsurely.

"Gerard Way?" Gerard nodded. "The doctors need to run some tests on you since you've woken up."

"Alright," he said. Both of them looked at Frank pointedly for him to leave the room. Frank sighed and got up, snatching up his sweater, and Gerard's heart clenched when he saw it was the very Misfits sweater that he had worn.

"We'll talk later?" Frank asked softly, looking to Gerard for affirmation. The latter just looked down and nodded quietly, which was as much of a dismissal as it was assenting.

\----

In the end, Gerard was released with a bottle of pills (how ironic) and the instructions to stay away from heavy foods for the next few weeks. His stomach turned when he saw Frank sat with his elbows on his knees out at the waiting room. Should he have been surprised that he'd wait? He thought maybe he had the right to be. But a lot more of him thought that that would be wrong.

He walked toward Frank, legs shaky and arms limp by his sides and all around feeling like a weirdly proportioned loser. Gerard stopped in front of Frank, wincing when he looked up and motioned for Gerard to go outside with him. They head out of the hospital, Frank leaning against the side of a car, staring at Gerard expectantly.

Gerard picked at his thumb, considered just turning back and maybe leaving through a window or something—anything, really, to save him from talking to Frank. Thing is, he knew what he had to do. He didn't mean to, but all Frank ever did is make him sad. At first it was because he insisted on giving Gerard way too many chances, and then it was because he stopped, and then he thought he himself deserved a chance.

"I, uh." Frank interrupted his train of thought. "I made a list. For the days I missed while we weren't talking." At that he shoved a list into Gerard's hands and turned away. Gerard thought he saw a blush on Frank's cheeks.

13\. The remake of Parent Trap  
14\. Really really big blankets  
15\. Alan Moore  
16\. Flowers in unlikely colors  
17\. Hamilton the musical  
18\. The feeling you get when you hear a song you really like in public  
19\. Coffee  
20\. Bohemian Rhapsody  
21\. Pets with human names  
22\. Love.

At the last reason, Gerard looked up from the paper, where Frank was scuffing his sneaker against the ground, head turned away from Gerard.

"Frank?" Frank turned to him, and Gerard let himself have the luxury of staring at his face, drinking it all in. There were purple circles under his bloodshot eyes, deep enough to rival Gerard's. He was unshaven and the skin on his face was dry in the winter air. Gerard had never seen anyone so beautiful.

"Love is something to live for." Frank's shoulders were pulled up by his ears. "You deserve love."

Gerard's first instinct was to shake his head, which he did. "I don't. Frank, I don't. I'm the last person to deserve love. I'm arrogant. I forget my friends. I have everything I could ever want but I never stop complaining. I'm mentally dysfunctional but I can't bring myself to fix it. I call myself an artist but I haven't drawn anything in months. I—"

Gerard cut himself off at that, because he didn't know why he was telling Frank this. Frank himself looked like he was on the verge of telling Gerard to shut up. Maybe some bullshit about self-esteem. He sighed. "What are you doing here, Frank?"

Frank turned to face him, and let out a breath. "I saw your text."

"Oh," Gerard said, soft and high.

"I called the ambulance."

"Oh."

"I've been worried sick."

Gerard paused. "Oh." He frowned. "You didn't need to do that."

Frank looked up. "What?" He put his hands on Gerard's shoulders. "Gerard, you were dying. I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I just—left you there. Just abandoned you."

"It's funny you say that."

"What do you mean?"

Gerard saw red flashes in his eyes and pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head. "I mean you did. Abandon me. Don't pretend you didn't." With that, he walked back into the hospital. He kind of hoped that Frank would fight for him. There was only silence.

\----

Gerard was discharged from the hospital that night. Frank wasn't there with him.

But as he found out when he got home, that was because Frank was sitting at his doorstep.

"Doctors said someone needed to watch you," he mumbled. Gerard nodded and pulled out his keys. His fingers fumbled and he could feel the heat of Frank's glances. Not for the first time Gerard wished he was better. Frank stood in the middle of his living room, lost and looking like he hadn't been here before. And suddenly Gerard was exhausted. He couldn't find it in himself to care about anything else but the fact that he needed sleep so badly.

"Let yourself out," Gerard muttered, and then walked into his room, the noises of Frank moving around fading into white noise. Gerard flopped onto the bed and fell asleep instantly.

\----

Except Frank didn't let himself out. Gerard realized this when he found him asleep at his dining table, head pillowed in his arms. Gerard started the coffee maker and grabbed a mug. After a moment of hesitation, he got one for Frank as well. He stared at the drink percolating into the coffeepot.

To tell the truth, Gerard didn't want Frank to go. Gerard wanted to curl around him and mouth at his neck, to have Frank's arms wrapped around him at night. But another, more vocal part of him thought that Frank could be interchangeable with anyone. Gerard didn't really want Frank—he wanted a warm body to lie next to. God knew that Frank wasn't what he wanted or needed. But first he had things to find out.

Gerard picked up the full coffeepot and the two mugs, bringing them to the dining table. He pulled out a chair across from where Frank slept, cheek pressed up against his left hand, head tilted to the side.

The alarm on Frank's watch beeped—8 o'clock. He jerked awake and turned it off, and then gave Gerard a tentative smile when he saw him. Gerard didn't return it, just motioned towards the coffee in the center of the table.

"We need to talk, Frank." They set down their mugs and Frank looked down at his lap, instead of at Gerard. Gerard sighed. "Look—"

"I'm sorry. You're right." A pause.

"About what?"

"I did abandon you." Frank glanced at Gerard, who had gone back to drinking his coffee. "Gerard, please just listen to—"

"What did I do?" Gerard bit his lip and he felt his ears and cheeks burn from just how pathetic he sounded.

"Oh god, I—okay. It wasn't anything you did, but. Remember the time I walked in on you doing...you know?"

Gerard ducked his head. "Yeah." He put his coffee down. "Was it because of that?"

"No. Wait—yeah, actually, but like," he took a deep breath. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything."

"But I did." Gerard slid a tiny bit down his seat. "You wouldn't have stopped talking to me if I didn't."

"No, it was my fault. I was being an idiot."

"Over what?" Gerard looked at him imploringly. "You were my fucking friend, Frank. You supported me. You don't get to just walk out like that." He shoved his chair out and stood up. "Please leave." The siren call of his sofa and some quiet was beckoning him.

"I was jealous." Frank's voice rang out in Gerard's too-spacious dining room. "I walked in and saw you on top of that guy, and I was stupid and jealous. All I've done since that day was make the wrong decision." Gerard was standing stock-still in the doorway. Frank laughed hollowly. "You know, I heard all your messages." He held up his left hand and shook it.

"You did?" Gerard said. His voice sounded broken to his own ears.

"Heard them all," Frank said. 

"And you didn't--" 

"Yeah, I didn't reply. I don't know why."

Gerard bit his lip, and then moved over to Frank, who still had his head bowed. He only curled in more when Gerard's shadow fell over him. 

"It's not your fault, you know," Gerard murmured. "I should probably say that. I tried to off myself, but you had no part in doing it." 

Frank raised his head to look at Gerard. 

"I mean," and now Gerard's babbling, "Was I happy that you were ignoring me? No. And I'm still pretty fucking mad at you. But," He grabbed Frank's left hand with his right. "It's not your fault. You have to know that. 

"And," his breath hitched here because this was it, "I think I'm in love with you. And I thought in the past, you wouldn't have liked that, but I think--I think that--that--" 

He stopped talking then, because Frank's hand had finally moved and curled around his own, and Frank was looking into his eyes. 

"You think what?" Frank prompted. There was a pause. 

"I think you'd like that too." Gerard said this quietly. 

Frank laughed equally as quietly. "I would." And he surged up to meet him in a kiss. 

\----

It wasn't raining now, but Gerard was wearing Frank's jacket anyway. Call him sentimental. He sat on the edge of the bridge, and he watched his feet dangle over the edge, down to the water below. It was calm today, more blue than gray, and softly dappled. 

"Please get down from there." Frank's voice came from behind him, worried. 

Gerard turned to see his boyfriend staring at him with concern. "I'm not gonna jump." 

"Yeah, I know," Frank smiles briefly at that, "But I'm worried you'll fall." 

Gerard scoffs. "I'm not gonna fall." 

"Gee, yesterday you fell off the bed because you reached too far for the water." 

Gerard huffs and starts to climb back off the edge. When he's finally up and standing, he wraps his arms around Frank, and they stare out at the sky. 

"Did you take your meds?" Frank asked him. They didn't talk louder than necessary, like neither of them wanted to disturb the little cocoon of peace around them. 

"Yeah, before we came." His arms tightened around Frank, who, in turn leaned back against him. 

"I love you," Gerard said absently. Frank turned around and kissed him on the jaw. 

"I love you too." 

And at that moment, he was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> please please BLEASE comment. i love comments. i live on comments. 
> 
> also, hmu on twitter @oceaniach_ee :)


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